“AN UNSENT LETTER READ AT THE PARK THAT NIGHT”

“This city needs more green,” you said, which I believe to have been more than once. “I don’t understand why they keep on building buildings, making the whole thing look more like Gotham City – which only looks good in comic books, but actually crappy in real life.”

I’d grinned at your brutal honesty. After all, this is still my city. I’ve lived here since I was born. I have to agree with you, though, that there are way too many buildings around here – and not enough green areas. Why do we still need more?

That’s why you like the idea of this writers’ club I’m part of hanging out at the park, and guess what? So do I. We also love coffee-shops, but let’s just face it: it can get boring sometimes. The music’s too loud and sometimes, there are people who smoke indoors. How annoying.

I guess that’s why you don’t miss this city. The last time you visited us here, the traffic has already worsened – and so has the pollution. I still remember one of our friends telling me about your visit to your doctor back in your home country. He’d asked you to quit smoking, when in fact you’ve never even really started. It was the pollution here.

Still, I miss you. I always do when you’re not around. I still dream about your beautiful steel blue eyes sometimes, and I’m so scared right now that I might go psycho if I don’t remember that only God makes all the calls here.

At last, here I am at the park…along with the writers’ club. I know I was supposed to be writing something else related to the theme of the night, which is “the park”, but somehow…I just can’t seem to get you out of my mind. However, I choose not to be sorry. I’ll just let myself be wholly challenged by this spiritual agony – until only God knows when this will blow over and just leave me be.

I’ve invited you here. Come join us when you visit this city and have a spare time. That, if you’re not too tired. I have a feeling that you might also like this park. I don’t know if you’ve been here before. Chances are you have, especially since you’ve already been to over 50 countries long before I was even born.

I love the gentle breeze of the wind. There are people here, but it’s a drag that some still litter. Some walk their dogs or just come with their family, friends, and partners. Some have picnics. Sometimes there are free, street art performances. Poetry-reciting. Singing. Violinists playing classical music. Saxophonists playing jazz.

I take it that you’re the kind who love going to the park too, but with a book to read or two. I’ve seen such similar, typical movie scenes. I’ve tried doing that too here, but I don’t think people get the idea. They look at me as if I’m a freak. Why would any girl want to be seen sitting alone in a public place, like this park for example, reading a book and expecting to receive no attention from her surrounding? What?

I gave up after a few attempts. After all, nothing beats libraries, coffee-shops, or even…your own room.

Anyway, I see couples hanging out at this park. I choose not to let such a sight bother me so much, although I think some of them should just get a hotel room or something. I mean, come on! There are underage children watching here.

I remember the many things you said about her the last time we talked. You said the feelings were still there, despite the fact that the relationship was over long ago. You’d still do anything for her and I totally get that. After all, feelings can’t be compelled.

You still love her. It was obvious.

And I’ll do almost anything for you too, since I’m still being realistic. This may sound crazy to you but it’s true.

It’s getting late now, but the park is still crowded. I’ve got to finish this letter before heading back home. I’d sent you the first letter last year before you left, but this is not going anywhere, I think. I believe I’ve written enough. I’ve said everything I needed to say. I don’t want to scare you like obsessed stalkers do.

I’m waiting for the day that you’ll find happiness, hopefully with her. Sounds hypocritical of me? I don’t care. I’d rather see you two get back together again, just like before. This park could be the place to meet if you guys wanted to, just like in sappy movies or other romantic tales in books you may have read. But hey, you hate cliches.

I could picture you two in my mind. I don’t care if it’s slowly killing me inside. I’m prepared for the pain I’ll have to face again. Why? This is still nothing compared to the agony I feel after having seen that sad look on your face that night.

Like I’ve said already – anything, so I’ll never have to see such sadness in your steel blue eyes again. Perhaps, after that you could stop being such a love-cynic like me, because I’d rather see you happy. Because you’re just worth it.

Good night. Be happy – wherever you are, because you know I love you so – and you deserve to be.

author

Writer@work. I often write that, either here or #writer@work on my social media pages.
In real life, I am indeed a writer. I don't just write in here. I also work as a freelance writer for a digital content company.
I also love writing fiction, poetry, and feature articles. You are bound to find more in here.
What else do I do?
I am also a part-time English teacher and a freelance translator. Other than that, I'm just living my life and doing my best.
It is all so simple, isn't it? Well, it should be. Why ruin it with unnecessary drama?
Oh, well. This is real life. You can't really escape it. The only thing you can do is deal with it the best way you know how.
Writer@work